come away with me
take our place among the starsOne minute, the wind and the rain were blowing harshly on his face as he battled with one of the Jolly Rager’s crew on the ship, the next minute, he wasn’t. His legs hung in the air for a moment before he fell off the ship and the last thing he saw was the horrified expression on Mino’s face, the last thing he heard was the shriek of his name leaving the captain’s lips. Layers and layers of thick clouds he passed through, the dark indigo of the night slowly transiting to the sky blue of the day was the only proof that he was going mad or worse, dying.
So this was what death felt like.
So this was what death felt like.
He wakes up to someone softly prodding his side and he groans. Cracking an eye open, he spies a wide expanse of blue sky littered with little puddles of clouds. Scents of elderflowers and lilac lavenders tickled his nose and he sneezes, glad to finally get rid of the dust clogging his throat.
“Hey, are you alright? That was quite some fall.” A voice sounds out beside him and he could make out small crescents squinting at him through the bright sunlight.
When he moves to sit up, he could feel a hand gently cupping his shoulder and he allows the kind stranger to sit him up. His exhausted body aches and groans like an old mule’s so he takes care to turn around slowly in a bid to survey the surroundings; a sea of purple embraces him, their stalks lightly bending in the breeze which lays its tender caresses on his cheeks and teases the curls of his hair.
“What is this place? Am I in heaven now?” He softly whispers, more to himself because he doesn’t think he can handle the answer the stranger is going to give him. At least heaven looks beautiful and serene, free from pain and heartaches, and maybe he can learn to let go of the regrets hounding his heart before he died.
What he doesn’t expect is the small slap the stranger delivers to his cheek.
He whirls around to face the stranger, shock and displeasure evident in his face which quickly turns into a scowl when the other just scoffs and asks the most stupid question ever thrown at him (and believe him, he has met a lot of dim-witted fools in his short life).
“Does it hurt?”
“Why, of course!”
“Then congratulations, Hades has decided not to let your ugly through his gates just yet. Get up, you’re not dead.” The stranger stands up and disdainful eyes gaze at him, as if he is a wounded but defiant little kitten, too haughty to ask for help.
“You peasant, how dare you speak to me in such offensive manner!” He retorts with an indignant ferocity, his temper kicking in as he springs up, his sword already drawn from the scabbard in a swift movement.
The other just stares at him with eyes filled with bewilderment but he soon brightens up and exclaims with the excitement of a thief getting his hands on the most magnificent treasure ever. “You’re one of those sky pirates! From the planet, Aurelius!”
“Yes, I’m Kang Seungyoon, first mate of the Black Mage.” He announces proudly. Now if this young fellow knows his stuff, he would then know that the Black Mage is one of the most feared pirate ships ever to roam the Seven Seas and captained by the one and only Song Mino.
Seungyoon isn’t disappointed because the stranger’s face is immediately filled with awe and wonder. “Amazing! I’m actually meeting a sky pirate. If only Mother was here to see this too…”
The other trails off with this thought, a tinge of sadness clouding his eyes and Seungyoon frowns. What sort of second-rate, inexperienced pirate is this person? No great pirate wears his heart on his sleeve for emotions are like the stolen treasures from palaces and the nobles; they are nothing a pirate should flaunt overtly. This, he learned in the many years he spent on board the Black Mage.
“I’m Lee Seunghoon and I’m afraid you have travelled too far from your home planet; this is Atelia.”
Seungyoon’s worst fear has come true. He has fallen into Atelia, the legendary land that old sailors and travelers whispered stories of in taverns, tall tales of metal boxes running along roads and tiny boxes emitting flashes of light that souls out of human bodies. All stories about the strange land of Atelia are laced with the same warning - it is no safe place for an Aurelian sky pirate.
The walk back to Seunghoon’s house was short but Seungyoon was too filled with worry to enjoy the scenery, his teeth tormenting the lower lip and his hand gripped the handle of his sword tightly. No matter how hard he tried to control his breathing, his heart still pounded painfully at the thought of the Black Mage, his home for the past fifteen years, and it hurt even more when Mino’s face flashed in his mind.
The house was situated at the border of the flower field with a little patio that overlooks the field and the backyard. A huge oak tree stands proudly at the side of the house and from one of its broad branches, hung a round black object with a hole in the middle and fastened by three thick ropes tied around the branch. It swung calmly in the breeze and Seungyoon had an instinct that it was meant for play, somehow imagining a child-sized Seunghoon sitting on the black object, his small legs dangling in the hole and giggling as his parents pushed him.
The mental image stilled Seungyoon’s heart and a small smile crept on his lips without him knowing why but he shook himself awake from his daze and followed Seunghoon into the house, hoping that he would be able to leave such unnecessary thoughts at the door.
Inside, the house was expansive and yet cozy with couches and armchairs dotting the space in front of the fireplace. This was very unlike the living quarters on the pirate ship where everyone was squeezed into minuscule rooms and cramped double-decker beds. But still, everyone on the ship called it home and they owned it with a ferocity that was tender and affectionate. Likewise, he could feel that the house was soaked with the love and the warmness of a happy family living here, from the comfortable couches splayed with gaudy flower prints to the wooden tiles smoothed down by the soles of Seunghoon and his family over the years.
As Seunghoon busied himself with whipping out “a feast that will surely knock you out!” (People here sure talk in a strange way, Seungyoon thought), the pirate cautiously lowered himself unto the couch and soon, found himself dozing off to the sounds of pots and pans clanging in the kitchen.
The sizzling amber of the sun has disappeared by the time he woke up in the darkening room. Darkness blankets the house and there was no light outside to rival the marvelous splendor of the stars but his heartbeat quickens as his hand grip the handle of his sword again, his eyes and ears searched for any sort of movement in the vicinity around him.
“Seungyoon!” Someone bellows from the room to his right and he rushes into the kitchen with his sword wielding high above his head, all ready to fight a thousand navy soldiers or the crew of a rival pirate ship.
Instead, all he sees is Seunghoon holding a bowl of rice and a deadpanned expression resting on his face. “What are you doing?”
“I… I thought you were in danger.” He admits with a small voice and his sword shamefully sheathed.
“The only danger I will run into here is getting my head cut off the next time you wield your sword blindly. Sit down.” The other commands and an exasperated sigh punctuates his words.
Dinner is a simple affair of rice with a plate of fish fried with some sort of spice that tasted sweet first and then exploded with acidity and sourness in Seungyoon’s mouth. The soup is a refreshing taste of natural saltiness from the stewed seaweed and baby octopuses and he filled himself full with three helpings of the soup. Porridge littered with small shrimps was the only kind of food served on the ship and only on a good day, tiny portions of meat and fish were added in. In the days before he was taken in by the ship, small pieces of bread was all he could find each day and sometimes when the shopkeepers were kind, a square of cheese were snuck out to him.
So even if Seunghoon’s cooking were a little less than perfect, it still is the best meal he has ever had and for once, it feels really nice to have his stomach full and warm.
Seunghoon is too busy babbling about some sort of “rift in time and space” throughout dinner to eat more than a few mouthfuls of rice and fish but Seungyoon is also too busy gobbling up the food to pay any attention to his theories about Atelia and Aurelias.
“I did some research on parallel universes and I think our planets are two planes or worlds nested inside each other, like two cars parked in the same lot. Now and again, they collide and people can step from one to the other. We just need to find a way to form a passage between our worlds and get you back to your world, but it might not be an easy thing to achieve-”
Seungyoon stops piling food into his mouth at the last few words and he looks up. “You will help me get back to Aurelius?”
“Of course, that’s where you belong right?” Seunghoon is now gazing at him with genuine concern and truthfully, if Seungyoon wasn’t a great pirate and first mate of one of the greatest pirate ships ever, he would have probably released the waterworks in gratefulness.
But even if he isn’t in Aurelius and there isn’t anybody here but this lanky young man with kind eyes under ash-grey hair (that looks so soft in the glow of the moonlight shining through the window), he still had appearances to maintain.
So he lowers his eyes and mumbles a “Thank you”, spoken so softly that he doubts anyone else can hear him but a moment later, Seunghoon chuckles and ruffles his hair like he’s some puppy.
“The nerve of that peasant!” Seungyoon shouts inside his mind but he decides to let it slide since Seunghoon has been nothing but kind, feeding him food and taking him in when he has nowhere to go.
(Definitely not because it felt nice whenever Seunghoon touches his hand or pokes his cheeks.)
Sunlight streams into the house, hitting Seungyoon’s face squarely and he groans through the sleepiness at the twittering of birds perched outside on the windowsill. He sits up and stretches to rid himself of the knottiness of his muscles on his shoulders before nestling against the velvetiness of the headboard, wondering which port the ship has arrived in this time around and whether Mino will bring him along in exploring the city-
It takes a moment for him to realize that the room isn’t rocking on gentle waves, a drop of his heart to realize that he is no longer on the ship and the weight of dread on his chest to recall that he is not even in his home planet, but the strange land of Atelia.
The memories slowly surface to his consciousness: the battle with the Jolly Rager, Mino’s horrified face getting smaller as he falls off the ship, Seunghoon slapping him, dinner where Seunghoon said that they will find a way to get him back to his world and the mortifying time when the other, in a bid to save him from the scalding hot water showering down from some round object, ran into the bathroom to find him -.
No one must know of this and he banishes the memory into the deepest recesses of his mind as he searches for his sword on the bed, his heart skipping a beat when it was nowhere to be found. A quick look around the bedroom and the frantic search in the closets plunge him into total panic over the missing sword-
Unless.
“Peasant!” he roars, racing out of the room and down the stairs to find Seunghoon standing at the door with his hand resting on the doorknob, caught in the act of turning it and escaping out of the house.
“What?! And we need to talk about your manner of speech, stop calling people “peasants”. The word is archaic and it’s rude.” Seunghoon had the audacity to reprimand, hands folded over his chest like a strict father chastising an impish child.
“Where’s my sword?! Give me back my sword!” Frustration mounts in him and he’s not sure he’s able to hold himself back from hitting the daylights out of the other.
“No! I’ve hidden it. I don’t want to walk into any room with the possibility of getting hurt from you wielding the sword in this house. What do you even need it for? No one is going to attack you and I don’t know if you have noticed but this is not the era of sword-fighting. There are worse ways to hurt you if someone wants to and your precious sword won’t even be able to protect you.”
Seunghoon is right, or somewhat right, Seungyoon concedes but he still feels uneasy without the sword. A pirate is nothing without it and to think a great pirate like him would have it taken away from him under his nose!
A minute goes by and when Seunghoon receives no punches or angry words from Seungyoon, he visibly relaxes and his lips lift in a gentle smile. “I’m going to get some groceries. Nothing is going to hurt you, don’t worry- wait.” Worry lines appear on his face in a frown as a thought occurs to him. “I guess the microwave oven can hurt you. And everything that runs on electricity, oh my God. Okay, just sit on the armchair and don’t move while I’m gone.”
It’s definitely not in Seungyoon’s blood to follow the orders of another person (anybody who isn’t Mino, that is) but he meekly nods his head because really, what else can he do? Besides, he trusts Seunghoon and he knows that the other will keep him safe.
Seunghoon turns towards the door and he was about to walk out when he hesitates. “If you’re good and nothing explodes in the house when I’m gone, I’ll give you back the sword.”
Of course, Seunghoon has to return home right at the moment when the black thin box in the living room was about to be slashed into halves by the pirate. In his defense, he was only trying to protect himself from the navy soldiers that were going to attack him right out of the tiny box.
“Is there magic involved? How is it they can transform their size and squeeze into the box before emerging out in their full size to attack me?!” Seungyoon demands, his hand still brandishing the sword dangerously in the living room.
“No one is going to attack you. Put down that goddamn sword.” Seunghoon yells and pinches the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “It’s just for entertainment, for show. It’s like …. plays that you see in the theatres? Except the moving images and sounds are transmitted to the tiny box over there so everything you see in there aren’t real.”
“You should have told me earlier. This land is indeed full with strange objects and treasures.” Seungyoon comments off-handedly and he finally sheaths the sword in the scabbard after making sure that no one is going to come charging at them.
“How did you even find the sword?”
“I was rummaging through the cabinets in the kitchen when I found it in that grey odd double-decker storage closet over there. Why is it so cold in there and how do you grow vegetables in the lower closet? I see no soil in there.” It was indeed a mystifying object and Seungyoon thought there were treasures to be found in there but all it had were vegetables and weird looking tiny barrels and containers storing who knows what.
“Fridge, it’s called a fridge. It’s used to keep foods and drinks cool.”
Now that he thinks about it, the upper closet containing the two pieces of fishes does look vaguely similar to the ice-box the ship used to store and cool dead fishes. “Like an ice-box, except the ice never melts!”
“… Yes, well I guess you can put it that way.”
“O young one, you seek enlightenment and what better place to go to than the living well of knowledge-”
At breakfast the next morning, Seunghoon was forced to abandon his short-lived imitation of a wise old man when he ended up choking on his scrambled eggs. Seungyoon was less than concerned for the ailing Atelian but just the thought of entering a building filled to the brim with more books than the number of pirates he has battled with gave him a headache for he was no lover of books.
Mino was the one who loved to read, always seeking out a bookshop whenever they dock at a city and buying at least a carton of books to enjoy back on the ship. Seungyoon’s heart clenched at the memory of Mino sitting high up on the sails with a book perched on his lap and his delighted guffaw travelling down into the depths of the first mate’s heart where every single sound the captain made was bottled up.
A new sense of determination and resolve raged in the tides of Seungyoon’s blood. He could brave a thousand soldiers and pirates in the past so he’s pretty sure a few dozen books won’t be too trying for him; anything just to return to Mino’s side.
But the first order of business was to find a decent outfit for him because (in Seunghoon’s exact words) “I am not bringing out anyone who thinks being a pirate is an excellent choice for a Halloween party”.
“I think you’re the one with boorish taste.” Seungyoon grumbled once he’s in the bathroom, the shirt with red and blue rectangles inter-lapping each other (he’s got another headache coming just by looking at it) hanging on the hook next to an inner shirt and a pair of black pants.
The pair of black pants was well, a disaster as he huffed and puffed loudly while trying to get his calves past the tiny, tiny holes. “Seunghoon, are you sure this is the right size for me?!” he squeaked, feeling like his legs are going to rot off from the lack of blood and the muscles of his thighs and calves all bunched up under the tight fabric.
The movements of his legs were constricted to baby steps and he could barely walk without groaning, much less run; these are definitely not the clothes for combat. But it seems the people of Atelia aren’t too bothered by things like being prepared for combat in times of invasions and attacks because Seunghoon whooped in delight when he saw Seungyoon in the clothes he has chosen.
“I can’t believe you wear those atrocious pants that hide your great all day! Did you even get laid in your planet?” If Seungyoon wasn’t scandalized by Seunghoon’s choice of words, the slap on his and the lecherous wink the other sent him sure did the job.
The second order of business was thankfully a lot easier since bicycles was one of the few things Seungyoon learned to ride in Aurelius but…
“It’s pink. And it’s tiny.”
“It belonged to my mother; she was a tiny woman. Quit complaining. And don’t tell me that a great pirate should never be caught dead with a pink bicycle because a) no one here knows that you’re a sky pirate and b) would you rather walk the 40 km to town?”
Of all the people in Atelia whose backyard he could have fallen into, it had to be Lee Seunghoon’s, the one person he can never win against in a verbal fight.
“Don’t break it because I would personally break your bones if you do.”
Did anyone mention that Lee Seunghoon can be quite menacing when he wants to be, even with his cheery little grins?
All the stories told about Atelia in his world could never prepare Seungyoon adequately for the spectacle that is the very heart of the city in which he is entering right now. He has been to Isidora – the capital and the biggest city in Aurelius - a few times, delighted in the marvels and wonders of the open-air markets, walked in her web of alleyways and skirted around her soldiers and guards many a times but still, nothing in her bustling streets and the grandiosity of her buildings could ever compare to Eutropia, which according to Seunghoon, is less than a comparable fraction of the bigger cities of Atelia.
The streets are lined with buildings that just go higher and higher, without stopping, into the clouds and maybe this is why the planet isn’t a safe place for sky pirates and their ships. What’s even more incredible are the metal boxes zooming on the roads and yet sometimes they stop and people walk across the roads, without any sort of fear written on their faces, like it’s the most normal thing to do. The metal boxes stop and people walk, people stop and the metal boxes go; it’s a whole rhythm and system that Seungyoon has never seen before or even begun to imagine.
Colors whirl around him and even the street signs dazzle him with their whiteness and black block words. The grayness of smog and dreary poverty was everywhere, tainting even the most blissful of lives in Aurelius but here, the vibrancy of everything comes alive and the laughter, the conversations, the noise and honks from the metal boxes overwhelm his ears- no, they feed his need for adventure and the moment.
Everything is huge. Everything is so important. Every detail, every moment, every life clung to; he sees all this and feels it from the depths of his being. And it is all very wonderful, how he can feel so small in this big city and yet also feel like he’s finally free, free from poverty that dogged him even on the ship, free from the constant battles and free from the heartache he has unknowingly brought into this world.
Suddenly, he was grabbed by someone behind him and he topples from the bicycle in a grunting mess of long limbs onto the pavement just as one of the metal boxes hustles past him. Someone groans below him and he gets up, pulling Seunghoon along.
“Are you okay? God, I know the city is wonderful and everything but you always have to watch your surroundings in the city, okay? Those things-” An accusatory finger is pointed at the numerous metal boxes hurtling along the roads. “-they can go very fast and you can get hurt, or worse get killed by them. This is what I mean when I say there are worse ways to kill you and your sword won’t be able to save you. Kang Seungyoon, are you listening to me?”
A brilliant grin lights up Seungyoon’s face for he has grown accustomed to close shaves with death and this isn’t enough to shake his spirits. “Aye aye, captain!”
Seunghoon scoffs and lightly slaps the top of his head in fond chastisement. “You’re impossible.” He smiles along but Seungyoon can tell that though the concern and worry in his eyes lessen, they never really go away.
The main library of Eutropia stands between two tall buildings, a broad and grand building that would have given the great library of Alexandria a run for its money. It was built simply with nothing more than a pair of lion statues guarding the front steps but there is something that astounds Seungyoon as he stands gawking at the dignity of it while Seunghoon ties their bicycles to the posts.
“Never underestimate the power of knowledge?” A flippant comment and a casual shrug of shoulders are all Seungyoon has to contend with before he is ushered past the double doors by Seunghoon.
The doors were like magical entrances to a whole new world because the moment he steps through, he was hit by the aroma of old books and wood. Gold marble tiles stretch everywhere to the second and third level. Rows and rows of tables and chairs fill the atrium with countless shelves of books flanking them and enveloping everything are the dark wooden columns and beams. One or two elderly gentlemen sat reading the newspapers and the rest were young men and women hard at work on their books and papers. Academics, Seungyoon thinks and shudders at their poor lives dedicated and doomed to their books.
Where outside was bright and noisy, the library is protected by the walls and doors, keeping its silence and dark wooden furniture imposing and dignified in a way that will please the guardian spirits of the books.
Seunghoon marches through the atrium and Seungyoon struggles to keep up while keeping his eyes open to the splendor of everything around him. Mino would have loved to be here, look at the amount of books in all sorts of colors and sizes! He reads the headings on each shelf and tries to find anything that might have a remote connection to pirates but the words blur past him in his attempt to keep up with Seunghoon, whose long legs have already climbed the final steps to the third level.
When Seungyoon’s legs are firmly grounded in the carpet of the third level, he looks up to see “RESTRICTED ACCESS” stamped across the glass doors in red big bold letters and next to it, stands Seunghoon with a triumphant grin.
“Good thing that the only person you know in Atelia works in a library, isn’t it.”
Five books, that was how many Seungyoon managed to scour through before the words on the pages jumbled into a dull confusion and he dozed off, his head resting comfortably on the old book, rich with legends and stories of his home planet.
“It is said that the clouds of Aurelius are so dense that huge ships are able to maneuver above it – merchant ships carrying spices and silk so exotic that only royalties and nobles are able to afford them, pirate ships laden with stolen treasures of the ancient civilizations and navy ships sworn to rid the planet of the vices and sin that are the pirate ships. Among the many pirates that ravaged the stormy skies, captain of the Black Mage, Song Mino, remains one of the most fearsome pirates ever to be recorded in legends. Stories of his adventures with his crew passed from one generation to the next…”
Seunghoon was a lot more diligent and in the evening, over dinner, they would exchange information they had gathered in the morning and afternoon (more than half of the information were supplied by Seunghoon since Seungyoon, not surprising, usually ended up dozing off during the long and drowsy afternoons). But the books did not supply any sort of information regarding the passage from one planet to the other; all they had were different theories about the nature of the relationship between the two planets.
(“A whole load of good this tells us!” Seungyoon once complained after being cooped up in the library for several hours and his fingers randomly thumbing through a dozen or so books.)
After a week has gone by without much headway, hope of ever seeing his home begins to grow dim in the heart of Seungyoon but he keeps silent, pasting a façade of confidence whenever Seunghoon turns to him with eyes glazed with more optimism than he can ever muster at the moment.
It’s a funny thing, he thinks when he lies awake on his bed late at night with the song of the crickets chirping outside the windows accompanying his thoughts. It’s a funny thing because Mino’s father had once told him to choose his battles wisely and he always thought that every battle fought in the name of the Black Mage, every victory won for Mino will be worth it but now Seungyoon no longer knows whether this battle is still worth fighting for.
On this particular afternoon, sunlight streams through the windows in brilliant orange streaks across the floor and Seungyoon’s skin tingles with the need of contact with the warm glow of the sunrays. His lungs craves for the spring of fresh air and his heart yearns for the buzz of life beyond the dreary cubbyhole the library has seemed to carve out for him these past few days.
Seated on a bench just beside the flowers growing in their lovely little lots, he feeds the pigeons crowding around him with the leftover sandwich Seunghoon made for him in the morning. He remembers doing the same whenever he waits for Mino to come out of the bookshop in the city where the ship was docked and he laughs hollowly, the laugh rattling in the emptiness of his chest.
The noise and sounds of the city are still the same as when he first entered the city so many days ago but he thinks he’s no longer the same person. The city no longer fazes him and he has learned to read the system of the roads well enough to know that the green flashes of the light belt standing across the road means that it’s safe to walk, that the cars (Seunghoon taught him the name of the metal boxes) are obligated to stop.
Just yesterday, he made his first order at the café down the road without his guide by his side and managed to give the right amount of notes and coins to the cashier, after which his guide flashed him a proud thumb-up (which meant he did a good job, Seunghoon also taught him) through the glass window of the cafe.
That’s the good thing about the cities in Atelia; they are inclusive, accepting of the sky pirate who has stumbled into their world and Seungyoon feels like he has done quite a good job of adapting and settling into this strange new land. But within this exultant delight, lies also the raw and painful open wound of the guilt scarred in his heart. Does reveling in his new world also mean forgetting his home in the other planet and that the people he left behind in Aurelius no longer matter to him?
He’s afraid to find out, afraid that one morning he might wake up not being able to picture Mino’s face anymore, afraid that one day he will grow too used to the comforts of the life here and that unwillingness and fear will be all that he feels whenever he thinks about returning to the ship.
Most of all, he fears being a stranger to himself.
“Penny for your thoughts?”
“I have a lot of thoughts running through my head right now, you might have to pay more than a dollar.” Seungyoon smoothly replies, the hint of a small smile hanging on his lips.
“That’s a good one.” Seunghoon chuckles and the sound it makes, Seungyoon is starting to find it as lovely as Mino’s guffaws.
Silence perches between them on the bench as Seunghoon unwraps his own sandwich and peels bits of it off to feed the pigeons. He scatters the morsels all over the grass patches and it is then that the pigeons leave them alone with their unspoken words.
Seunghoon takes a deep breath before asking the unavoidable question, his hands bundled in the pockets of his jacket. “You’re not thinking of giving up, are you?”
“It’s hard not to when I don’t see any path leading me home.” Seungyoon quietly admits, his words coming out with a sigh that seems to finalize everything even when nothing has really been decided.
“I’m just thinking whether this also can be home to me.” He continues, his eyes resting on the weak sunlight shining through the wind vane of the church just across the street.
“My grandmother always used to tell my mother, and my mother always used to say to me,” Seunghoon straightens up and clears his throat before adopting a voice of motherly shrillness, complete with the exaggerated flourish of the hand. “The soufflé isn’t the soufflé, the soufflé is the recipe!”
That actually makes no sense to Seungyoon at all but the giggles escape him all the same. (It is times like this that he harbors an extra portion of thankfulness that it was Seunghoon who stumbled into him and no one else because really, who would go to such lengths to cheer a pathetic sad fool up?)
“I admit, I still have no idea what that means, even though my mother repeated it to me a hundred times. You probably don’t even know what a soufflé is.”
“I know what it is and I’ve tried it. A bloated and puffy crust hiding nothing but white sugarness that even a child with an extreme case of sweet tooth might find it nauseating; not worth the time to make it and definitely not worth the pennies one have to pay in Aurelius. But I didn’t have to pay because Mino and I, we dressed up as dignified nobles so that the snobby restaurant would let us in, ordered a huge feast including the soufflé, cleared everything off the plates, charged it to the Duke of Lexconly, whom we pretended to be our dear uncle and merried off before they realized that the duke had no siblings and was not married!”
Laughter bubbles from Seungyoon at the memory of the waiters yelling after them as they raced through the streets into the safety of the Black Mage. Tears stream from his eyes and his tummy hurts but it feels good because he hasn’t laughed this much ever since he left Aurelius.
And maybe Seunghoon understands because he sits there, not caring that a hysterical lunatic is doubled over on the bench next to him and he smiles fondly.
“We’re taking a day off and I’m going to introduce the city to you in the only way acceptable – through your stomach!” Seunghoon announced the minute he burst through the doors of the guest bedroom, his cheeky grins and sparkling eyes looking exactly like the child prince who escaped out of the palace for a day of fun in the markets and ended up as a stowaway on the ship.
As for Seungyoon, he was less than excited, already dozing off and falling back into dreamland under the warm layers of blankets and comforters he cocooned himself in.
But the Atelian was relentless (as like all his fellow citizens of Atelia, the pirate grumbled to himself) and that was how they had cycled to the little beach at the edge of Eutropia, spending a breezy morning in the presence of golden sunrays reflecting off the waves of the blue sea.
“I thought you would like to see where our pirates used to sail.” Seunghoon leans back comfortably in the hammock tied between two palm trees, wearing that silly pair of glasses that are tinted a dark tone of brown (which to Seungyoon, actually defeats the whole purpose of reading glasses. “They are not reading glasses! They are shades, named for the whole purpose of shading your eyes from the harmful sunrays.” Seunghoon protests and slaps a similar pair on Seungyoon’s face.)
“Life must be pretty dull for the pirates here without the ability to escape to the skies. Is that why piracy died off, from all the boredom?” Seungyoon taunts, the mockery barely veiled in his sly smile.
“Well for one thing, they didn’t fall off their ship into another planet." The smile Seunghoon shoots from the hammock is triumphant, smugness dripping from every inch of his thin lips.
It is truly a testament of Seungyoon’s self-restraint that he is able to stalk off before he ends up doing something drastic to wipe that terrible smirk off the other’s face.
In the spur of the moment (and against his initial fear), he heads towards the sandy shore and sits on a debris of wood brought on by the waves. If he is truly honest with himself, he does like the blue seas and the white sands here more than the grey smoggy clouds of his planet. In Aurelius, beaches were treacherous and cursed place to be in, filled with sharp rocks and seductive sirens, who draw charmed soliders and drown them so as to keep their souls forever.
He hopes that there are no such creatures here but he reckons there wouldn’t since kids run freely along the shore without a care in the world, kicking up sand and constructing elaborate figures from the sand. Must be blessed to be born here, not having to worry where or when the next meal will be and not having illnesses and death visiting their doors often. He’s one of the fortunate children but there are thousands, millions in Aurelius who never lived to see the dawn of their seventh birthday.
Padded footsteps can be heard behind him and he doesn’t even need to turn around to know that it’s Seunghoon but the other doesn’t come near, preferring to keep a distance between them, his voice sounding muffled and soft against the lazy breeze carrying his words away. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”
“I’m not mad. It’s a joke, I know that. We have jokes over there too, you know.”
Okay, maybe he is a little mad but it’s hard to pinpoint who or what he’s mad at exactly and it’s so much easier to put the blame on someone else than on a situation he can’t change or get out of.
“If you’re still mad at me, I brought my penance.” Seunghoon holds a paper boat containing a baguette or sort with dull red gravy softly oozing out of the center and despite his annoyance, Seungyoon receives it with care. “It’s a chili dog. There’s a hot dog in the folds of the bread, underneath the chili. The chili is one of the best in Eutropia and … I thought you might like it.”
Seunghoon does look sincerely apologetic with sad thoughtful eyes trained on him and if there’s one thing he learns from staying in Atelia for the past few weeks, it’s that he can never stay mad at Seunghoon for long.
The chili dog was good, way too good and irresistible, so much so that Seungyoon pretended that he was still slightly mad just so that Seunghoon can pay his penance with one more chili dog for the both of them to share.
“So underneath that great big pirate get-up, you’re just a child who never really grew up. Did no one bother to mention the huge appetite and the sly, manipulative side too when I took you in?”
Of course, Lee Seunghoon isn’t a fool. If he is, the universe wouldn’t have sent Seungyoon tumbling into his backyard.
(Well, a pirate can only hope that this is the universe’s way of being kind to him.)
“Shut up!” Seungyoon laughed, kicking the other’s bicycle in jest and so they began a childish race to the city with their laughter trailing behind them, just as the sun rose to the top of the sky in its golden chariot.
“Red seats and curvy tables set on top of floor tiles in different colors of the rainbows. Tell me, is this even legal?”
Seungyoon refuses to believe that a place capable enough of such atrocity can actually serve edible food, much less comfort food that “will sure to knock the patrons’ socks out”, as stated on the menu with obnoxious cursive words. (Again, what is with the Atelians’ fascination of knocking people out with food?)
“Whatever the diner lack in the design department, they sure do make up for it in the food department. I can assure you of that, cross my heart.” Seunghoon pulls the both of them down into the monstrosity that is the red seats, confidence ringing out loud in his sing-song voice.
“Now if the food isn’t good, I rather you take back your words and use your heart for a better purpose.” He smirks then, feeling quite proud that he’s getting better and faster with his comebacks but his amusement is not reciprocated for Seunghoon’s gaze on him is a mix of shame and sadness.
Something is wrong, Seungyoon has been feeling it for the past few days, especially when Seunghoon pulls away at the slightest physical contact between them, however fleeting and feather-light the touches are. He’s dying to find out what he has done wrong but whenever he asks or even hints at it, the other avoids the topic, drawing the conversation away with the usual cheeky grin and the naturalness of someone who is too used to masking his own feelings.
“What’s wro-”
The question drowns in the waves of glee radiating from Seunghoon when the food arrives – a confusing mix of meat, bread, sliced onions and tomatoes in a messy, oily pile with chunky and bloated blocks of potatoes at the side – and Seungyoon earnestly hopes that he will have enough time to find out what exactly is troubling his friend before it is too late.
They ended up staying later than expected in the diner and it certainly wasn’t because of the food, or the milkshakes (strange white swirling murkiness in a cup; definitely not the sort of beverage Seungyoon would dare to try but one slurp was all it took to have him addicted).
It was the jukebox, sitting unobtrusive in a quiet corner of the diner and Seungyoon would have went on not knowing the existence of the rectangular box, if it wasn’t for the young man who walked up and inserted a coin into it.
Loud sounds emits from the jukebox, bouncing off the walls and it feels like the whole place is throbbing with the regularity of the reverberations, like a heart echoing the rhythm of a song it used to beat along with loving familiarity. Even Seungyoon unconsciously taps his finger to the beats of the song playing in the diner, so unlike the kind of songs he used to sing on the ship with his banjo or ukulele and yet it tugs on his heartstrings in the way only music could do.
Surely magic is involved in this, how is it that so many different kinds of sounds are incorporated into the same song without sounding awful and discordant? The lovely chimes of the piano, the constant low thudding that seems to set the rhythm of the song and the flavorful voice of the singer; everything comes together in a harmony so vibrant and effervescent that people gather at the center of the diner, their bodies moving and flowing in perfect harmony to the music.
“It’s Jukebox Afternoon today; it’s a weekly thing where people are allowed to dance in here, from afternoon to the time it closes.” As Seunghoon explains, a soft fond smile appears on his face and the curl of his lips grows tender as his fingers clasp around Seungyoon’s wrist.
“Come on, let’s join them.”
Seungyoon wrinkles his nose in confusion for he has no idea what he is supposed to do. All he knows is that Seunghoon loves this place more than anything; that much is obvious from the affectionate fondness he sees in the other’s eyes. His skin flushes from the tight grasp on his wrist as he is led to the center and his heart warms at the fact that Seunghoon had chosen to share this special place with him.
You give every dream in me new life,
Like the sunshine breaks a perfect open sky
I never thought that through it all
I'd be the one to change
You showed me color when all I saw
Was black and white, I'm alive
Every doubt I held onto
Seems to melt away with you
So I'm holding on, yes I'm hanging on
Cause you’re all I want
Now I know you're the only one
“Dancing is easy. Just relax yourself, don’t think about anything, let the music soak your senses and your body will move freely to the beats.” Somehow, Seunghoon makes it sound like it is the easiest thing to do in the world and he demonstrates his instructions perfectly as his lean body sways gracefully while his long arms flow around him and his feet tap to the beats of the music.
Seungyoon let out a nervous laugh as he watches Seunghoon dances so naturally but his body stands stock-still, his arms frozen and rigid at his sides in his apprehension. People knock into him and they whirl away in their frenzy laughing delight, and it really does seem like the place is tilting too but suddenly, warm hands encircle his wrists and he stops spinning, anchored by Seunghoon’s smiling face and the closeness of their bodies.
“Like I said, just relax yourself and stop thinking too much! I thought pirates are good at having a good time huh?” There goes Seunghoon’s light mocking again but Seungyoon finds himself not bothering to come up with a witty retort as their arms raise and swing wildly together. The music is loud, drowning out everything including his hesitations and nervousness; his senses grow sensitive to the rhythm of the songs pounding on the floor and off the walls and soon, his body takes control, jumping along to the tempo with his arms swinging wildly in the air.
You’re just too good to be true
Can’t take my eyes off you
You’ll be like heaven to touch
I wanna hold you so much
At long last, love has arrived
And I thank God I’m alive
You’re just too good to be true
Can’t take my eyes off you
His heart expands with so much happiness and elation within him. Everything pours out in his exaggerated flailing of his arms and unadulterated laughter that is bounced off by Seunghoon’s own, and sometimes when they bump into each other, their hands naturally wrap around each other’s wrist, holding each other upright in their manic euphoria that threatens to render them breathless on the floor.
A loud clang ends the song, allowing Seungyoon a little breather, even though the air is thick with the heat of the bodies around him. Perspiration sheens his skin and his fringe sticks to his forehead but his body has never feel this alive than in this moment, in this diner, in another planet so very far from home, in the presence of someone whom he would have never met if it wasn’t for the strange and mysterious ways in which the universe operates.
The next song starts with a chorus of twangs and just as the raucous voice of the singer booms throughout the diner, Seunghoon jumps all over the place excitedly with his hands thrown up in the air as he yells, “This is my favorite song ever!”
And that’s a reason good enough for all caution and inhibitions to be thrown out of the window because Seunghoon comes up with all sort of possible (and some impossible, at least they were to Seungyoon) dance moves: twisting his body, wobbling his legs in a funny manner and wriggling his to the beats of the claps and twangs in the song.
Seunghoon’s wild delight in the song is infectious, bringing Seungyoon on a wave of heightened boldness as he tries to imitate the twists and wriggles of the other, even though he knows that a chimpanzee attempting a pirouette in a tutu is a sight less ridiculous than his disastrous attempts right now. Finally he is reduced to giggles and if not for the railings, he would have collapsed on the floor with the breath choked out of his lungs by the laughter that just wouldn’t stop bubbling out of him.
This thing called love
I just can't handle it
This thing called love
I must get round to it
I ain't ready
Crazy little thing called love
The heady rush of adrenaline gradually wanes and his heart slows to a languid thumping as he rests against the railings. Any more exertion of his muscles and joints, and he’s going to wake up with groaning aches all over his body tomorrow morning so he decides to leave the dancing to Seunghoon, who is still going at it with as much enthusiasm and -shaking as when he started.
Song after song, Seungyoon stands against the railings with a cup of milkshake in his hand (his third one today but no one has to know that) and a silly smile still stuck on his face, mesmerized by how Seunghoon’s body moves in the kaleidoscope of color lights shining down on him, like inky water flowing over the rocks or the velvety richness of silk caressing skin. And yet in his limbs, there is a certain tautness that surprisingly complements the litheness of his slender body, visibly expressing the strength and tenacity imbued in the way his body sways and shifts between light and shadow.
The beats of the noisy song (of all the songs played in the afternoon, this is the one song Seungyoon doesn’t fancy himself listening again) fades and the muffled thudding of the next song takes over the space. The tempo of the song is slow, charmingly indolent, and Seungyoon takes a moment to understand that the pairs forming in the dance area are actually courting couples, swaying to the perfect love song that is playing right now.
The dimmed lights in the diner cast a soft auburn glow on the faces of the couples, enveloping them in the radiance of their affections so bright that even though the nebulous darkness surrounds them, their eyes choose to behold only the iridescence of each other. Standing in the middle of them all is Seunghoon who wears an expression so lost and forlorn that the milkshake is immediately put away and Seungyoon covers the distance between them with quick long strides, a tiny piece of his heart breaking the closer he gets to the center.
Gazing at the old couple dancing cheek-to-cheek a few feet away from him with so much fondness that is both wretched and comforting at the same time, Seunghoon smiles when Seungyoon stands silently next to him; words are not needed when the warmth of a close friend is all that is needed to remind him that he’s not alone.
“Did you know that my parents were the ones who literally started Jukebox Afternoon?”
Tiny crescents lit up Seunghoon’s face, happiness radiating from him like a little boy when he speaks about his parents and his small soft hand in held in Seungyoon’s larger warm hand, who listens intently without interrupting.
“They first met here; she was the customer and he was the quiet nerdy manager who had the misfortune of getting soup spilled all over his shirt by her. The rest is history and they had their wedding party here, with loud music and lot’s of embarrassing and ridiculous dancing. This song… this was the last song they danced to that night. I know because I watched the video they recorded of the party.”
Seungyoon doesn’t understand how Seunghoon can watch and know something that happened before he was born but he has a hunch that it probably has to do with the black thin box in the living room, the same one he almost hacked into halves.
“When I was young, when Father was still here, they would bring me here every week, playing and dancing to all their favorite songs beside their table, not really caring that people were laughing at them. People began to look forward to our visits and they joined in; that’s how Jukebox Afternoon started to be a long-standing tradition here. They were the ones who gave me the love for this place and for dancing, they were the ones who nurtured my passion for dancing.”
No wonder Seunghoon was so good with his moves – he had the best audience anyone could have had and Seungyoon had to bite down on his cheeks to stop himself from giggling as he imagines a miniature version of the dancer wriggling and twisting his short pudgy body.
“Every week, Father will walk to the jukebox and play this song just so that they can have one last dance together, holding each other tightly as if they were the only ones in the world they have built, and I love watching them then the most, because even though I am the physical symbol of their love, it was only at that moment that their love for each other shone so brightly like a beacon of light that can be seen even from the farthest reaches of the universe. One last dance before we go home, they would tell me. And one afternoon, it was really their last dance together … because the next day, Father got into a car accident and he left us alone in the world, just Mother and me.”
The smile on Seungyoon’s face falters. He pretty much guessed that Seunghoon’s parents aren’t here anymore but it still tears a little at his heart to hear the words coming out of Seunghoon’s mouth, to see the lips curl into a wilted smile through the grief that still remains raw and unshakable, like a wound that refuses to heal.
And Seungyoon, despite all that he has learned on the Black Mage, is stricken by how much his own heart can hurt for someone else’s pain.
“It has been such a long time since I last heard this song but now, I look at that couple there and I wish my parents could be like them, growing old together and dancing to this song fifty, sixty years later, still so irrevocably in love with each other as when they danced to this same song on their wedding night.”
It wasn’t tenacity imbued in the way Seunghoon moved his body, Seungyoon now understands, it was desperation, a quiet wildness that wants to forget and yet remember. He also understands that despite the tall height, Seunghoon is just a boy who loves and misses his parents so much and his heart hammers painfully as his arms stretches to pull the other closer.
Being the typical pirate, he was never big on hugging but he throws his arms around Seunghoon and squeezes so tightly – in spite of the other’s soft protests – that he could feel his own breath crushing out of his lungs, wisps of air that leave comforting heated breaths on the other’s neck. Seunghoon’s arms hesitatingly encircle him but they cling to his shoulders as he feels tears seeping into his shirt and they stay like this till the end of the song.
Cause you give me something
That makes me scared, alright,
This could be nothing
But I'm willing to give it a try,
Please give me something
'Cause someday I might know my heart.
(“You should work on your moves though. You were pretty embarrassing.”
“Shut up, I was not.”)
“Hey, are you alright? That was quite some fall.” A voice sounds out beside him and he could make out small crescents squinting at him through the bright sunlight.
When he moves to sit up, he could feel a hand gently cupping his shoulder and he allows the kind stranger to sit him up. His exhausted body aches and groans like an old mule’s so he takes care to turn around slowly in a bid to survey the surroundings; a sea of purple embraces him, their stalks lightly bending in the breeze which lays its tender caresses on his cheeks and teases the curls of his hair.
“What is this place? Am I in heaven now?” He softly whispers, more to himself because he doesn’t think he can handle the answer the stranger is going to give him. At least heaven looks beautiful and serene, free from pain and heartaches, and maybe he can learn to let go of the regrets hounding his heart before he died.
What he doesn’t expect is the small slap the stranger delivers to his cheek.
He whirls around to face the stranger, shock and displeasure evident in his face which quickly turns into a scowl when the other just scoffs and asks the most stupid question ever thrown at him (and believe him, he has met a lot of dim-witted fools in his short life).
“Does it hurt?”
“Why, of course!”
“Then congratulations, Hades has decided not to let your ugly through his gates just yet. Get up, you’re not dead.” The stranger stands up and disdainful eyes gaze at him, as if he is a wounded but defiant little kitten, too haughty to ask for help.
“You peasant, how dare you speak to me in such offensive manner!” He retorts with an indignant ferocity, his temper kicking in as he springs up, his sword already drawn from the scabbard in a swift movement.
The other just stares at him with eyes filled with bewilderment but he soon brightens up and exclaims with the excitement of a thief getting his hands on the most magnificent treasure ever. “You’re one of those sky pirates! From the planet, Aurelius!”
“Yes, I’m Kang Seungyoon, first mate of the Black Mage.” He announces proudly. Now if this young fellow knows his stuff, he would then know that the Black Mage is one of the most feared pirate ships ever to roam the Seven Seas and captained by the one and only Song Mino.
Seungyoon isn’t disappointed because the stranger’s face is immediately filled with awe and wonder. “Amazing! I’m actually meeting a sky pirate. If only Mother was here to see this too…”
The other trails off with this thought, a tinge of sadness clouding his eyes and Seungyoon frowns. What sort of second-rate, inexperienced pirate is this person? No great pirate wears his heart on his sleeve for emotions are like the stolen treasures from palaces and the nobles; they are nothing a pirate should flaunt overtly. This, he learned in the many years he spent on board the Black Mage.
“I’m Lee Seunghoon and I’m afraid you have travelled too far from your home planet; this is Atelia.”
Seungyoon’s worst fear has come true. He has fallen into Atelia, the legendary land that old sailors and travelers whispered stories of in taverns, tall tales of metal boxes running along roads and tiny boxes emitting flashes of light that souls out of human bodies. All stories about the strange land of Atelia are laced with the same warning - it is no safe place for an Aurelian sky pirate.
The walk back to Seunghoon’s house was short but Seungyoon was too filled with worry to enjoy the scenery, his teeth tormenting the lower lip and his hand gripped the handle of his sword tightly. No matter how hard he tried to control his breathing, his heart still pounded painfully at the thought of the Black Mage, his home for the past fifteen years, and it hurt even more when Mino’s face flashed in his mind.
The house was situated at the border of the flower field with a little patio that overlooks the field and the backyard. A huge oak tree stands proudly at the side of the house and from one of its broad branches, hung a round black object with a hole in the middle and fastened by three thick ropes tied around the branch. It swung calmly in the breeze and Seungyoon had an instinct that it was meant for play, somehow imagining a child-sized Seunghoon sitting on the black object, his small legs dangling in the hole and giggling as his parents pushed him.
The mental image stilled Seungyoon’s heart and a small smile crept on his lips without him knowing why but he shook himself awake from his daze and followed Seunghoon into the house, hoping that he would be able to leave such unnecessary thoughts at the door.
Inside, the house was expansive and yet cozy with couches and armchairs dotting the space in front of the fireplace. This was very unlike the living quarters on the pirate ship where everyone was squeezed into minuscule rooms and cramped double-decker beds. But still, everyone on the ship called it home and they owned it with a ferocity that was tender and affectionate. Likewise, he could feel that the house was soaked with the love and the warmness of a happy family living here, from the comfortable couches splayed with gaudy flower prints to the wooden tiles smoothed down by the soles of Seunghoon and his family over the years.
As Seunghoon busied himself with whipping out “a feast that will surely knock you out!” (People here sure talk in a strange way, Seungyoon thought), the pirate cautiously lowered himself unto the couch and soon, found himself dozing off to the sounds of pots and pans clanging in the kitchen.
The sizzling amber of the sun has disappeared by the time he woke up in the darkening room. Darkness blankets the house and there was no light outside to rival the marvelous splendor of the stars but his heartbeat quickens as his hand grip the handle of his sword again, his eyes and ears searched for any sort of movement in the vicinity around him.
“Seungyoon!” Someone bellows from the room to his right and he rushes into the kitchen with his sword wielding high above his head, all ready to fight a thousand navy soldiers or the crew of a rival pirate ship.
Instead, all he sees is Seunghoon holding a bowl of rice and a deadpanned expression resting on his face. “What are you doing?”
“I… I thought you were in danger.” He admits with a small voice and his sword shamefully sheathed.
“The only danger I will run into here is getting my head cut off the next time you wield your sword blindly. Sit down.” The other commands and an exasperated sigh punctuates his words.
Dinner is a simple affair of rice with a plate of fish fried with some sort of spice that tasted sweet first and then exploded with acidity and sourness in Seungyoon’s mouth. The soup is a refreshing taste of natural saltiness from the stewed seaweed and baby octopuses and he filled himself full with three helpings of the soup. Porridge littered with small shrimps was the only kind of food served on the ship and only on a good day, tiny portions of meat and fish were added in. In the days before he was taken in by the ship, small pieces of bread was all he could find each day and sometimes when the shopkeepers were kind, a square of cheese were snuck out to him.
So even if Seunghoon’s cooking were a little less than perfect, it still is the best meal he has ever had and for once, it feels really nice to have his stomach full and warm.
Seunghoon is too busy babbling about some sort of “rift in time and space” throughout dinner to eat more than a few mouthfuls of rice and fish but Seungyoon is also too busy gobbling up the food to pay any attention to his theories about Atelia and Aurelias.
“I did some research on parallel universes and I think our planets are two planes or worlds nested inside each other, like two cars parked in the same lot. Now and again, they collide and people can step from one to the other. We just need to find a way to form a passage between our worlds and get you back to your world, but it might not be an easy thing to achieve-”
Seungyoon stops piling food into his mouth at the last few words and he looks up. “You will help me get back to Aurelius?”
“Of course, that’s where you belong right?” Seunghoon is now gazing at him with genuine concern and truthfully, if Seungyoon wasn’t a great pirate and first mate of one of the greatest pirate ships ever, he would have probably released the waterworks in gratefulness.
But even if he isn’t in Aurelius and there isn’t anybody here but this lanky young man with kind eyes under ash-grey hair (that looks so soft in the glow of the moonlight shining through the window), he still had appearances to maintain.
So he lowers his eyes and mumbles a “Thank you”, spoken so softly that he doubts anyone else can hear him but a moment later, Seunghoon chuckles and ruffles his hair like he’s some puppy.
“The nerve of that peasant!” Seungyoon shouts inside his mind but he decides to let it slide since Seunghoon has been nothing but kind, feeding him food and taking him in when he has nowhere to go.
(Definitely not because it felt nice whenever Seunghoon touches his hand or pokes his cheeks.)
Sunlight streams into the house, hitting Seungyoon’s face squarely and he groans through the sleepiness at the twittering of birds perched outside on the windowsill. He sits up and stretches to rid himself of the knottiness of his muscles on his shoulders before nestling against the velvetiness of the headboard, wondering which port the ship has arrived in this time around and whether Mino will bring him along in exploring the city-
It takes a moment for him to realize that the room isn’t rocking on gentle waves, a drop of his heart to realize that he is no longer on the ship and the weight of dread on his chest to recall that he is not even in his home planet, but the strange land of Atelia.
The memories slowly surface to his consciousness: the battle with the Jolly Rager, Mino’s horrified face getting smaller as he falls off the ship, Seunghoon slapping him, dinner where Seunghoon said that they will find a way to get him back to his world and the mortifying time when the other, in a bid to save him from the scalding hot water showering down from some round object, ran into the bathroom to find him -.
No one must know of this and he banishes the memory into the deepest recesses of his mind as he searches for his sword on the bed, his heart skipping a beat when it was nowhere to be found. A quick look around the bedroom and the frantic search in the closets plunge him into total panic over the missing sword-
Unless.
“Peasant!” he roars, racing out of the room and down the stairs to find Seunghoon standing at the door with his hand resting on the doorknob, caught in the act of turning it and escaping out of the house.
“What?! And we need to talk about your manner of speech, stop calling people “peasants”. The word is archaic and it’s rude.” Seunghoon had the audacity to reprimand, hands folded over his chest like a strict father chastising an impish child.
“Where’s my sword?! Give me back my sword!” Frustration mounts in him and he’s not sure he’s able to hold himself back from hitting the daylights out of the other.
“No! I’ve hidden it. I don’t want to walk into any room with the possibility of getting hurt from you wielding the sword in this house. What do you even need it for? No one is going to attack you and I don’t know if you have noticed but this is not the era of sword-fighting. There are worse ways to hurt you if someone wants to and your precious sword won’t even be able to protect you.”
Seunghoon is right, or somewhat right, Seungyoon concedes but he still feels uneasy without the sword. A pirate is nothing without it and to think a great pirate like him would have it taken away from him under his nose!
A minute goes by and when Seunghoon receives no punches or angry words from Seungyoon, he visibly relaxes and his lips lift in a gentle smile. “I’m going to get some groceries. Nothing is going to hurt you, don’t worry- wait.” Worry lines appear on his face in a frown as a thought occurs to him. “I guess the microwave oven can hurt you. And everything that runs on electricity, oh my God. Okay, just sit on the armchair and don’t move while I’m gone.”
It’s definitely not in Seungyoon’s blood to follow the orders of another person (anybody who isn’t Mino, that is) but he meekly nods his head because really, what else can he do? Besides, he trusts Seunghoon and he knows that the other will keep him safe.
Seunghoon turns towards the door and he was about to walk out when he hesitates. “If you’re good and nothing explodes in the house when I’m gone, I’ll give you back the sword.”
Of course, Seunghoon has to return home right at the moment when the black thin box in the living room was about to be slashed into halves by the pirate. In his defense, he was only trying to protect himself from the navy soldiers that were going to attack him right out of the tiny box.
“Is there magic involved? How is it they can transform their size and squeeze into the box before emerging out in their full size to attack me?!” Seungyoon demands, his hand still brandishing the sword dangerously in the living room.
“No one is going to attack you. Put down that goddamn sword.” Seunghoon yells and pinches the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “It’s just for entertainment, for show. It’s like …. plays that you see in the theatres? Except the moving images and sounds are transmitted to the tiny box over there so everything you see in there aren’t real.”
“You should have told me earlier. This land is indeed full with strange objects and treasures.” Seungyoon comments off-handedly and he finally sheaths the sword in the scabbard after making sure that no one is going to come charging at them.
“How did you even find the sword?”
“I was rummaging through the cabinets in the kitchen when I found it in that grey odd double-decker storage closet over there. Why is it so cold in there and how do you grow vegetables in the lower closet? I see no soil in there.” It was indeed a mystifying object and Seungyoon thought there were treasures to be found in there but all it had were vegetables and weird looking tiny barrels and containers storing who knows what.
“Fridge, it’s called a fridge. It’s used to keep foods and drinks cool.”
Now that he thinks about it, the upper closet containing the two pieces of fishes does look vaguely similar to the ice-box the ship used to store and cool dead fishes. “Like an ice-box, except the ice never melts!”
“… Yes, well I guess you can put it that way.”
“O young one, you seek enlightenment and what better place to go to than the living well of knowledge-”
At breakfast the next morning, Seunghoon was forced to abandon his short-lived imitation of a wise old man when he ended up choking on his scrambled eggs. Seungyoon was less than concerned for the ailing Atelian but just the thought of entering a building filled to the brim with more books than the number of pirates he has battled with gave him a headache for he was no lover of books.
Mino was the one who loved to read, always seeking out a bookshop whenever they dock at a city and buying at least a carton of books to enjoy back on the ship. Seungyoon’s heart clenched at the memory of Mino sitting high up on the sails with a book perched on his lap and his delighted guffaw travelling down into the depths of the first mate’s heart where every single sound the captain made was bottled up.
A new sense of determination and resolve raged in the tides of Seungyoon’s blood. He could brave a thousand soldiers and pirates in the past so he’s pretty sure a few dozen books won’t be too trying for him; anything just to return to Mino’s side.
But the first order of business was to find a decent outfit for him because (in Seunghoon’s exact words) “I am not bringing out anyone who thinks being a pirate is an excellent choice for a Halloween party”.
“I think you’re the one with boorish taste.” Seungyoon grumbled once he’s in the bathroom, the shirt with red and blue rectangles inter-lapping each other (he’s got another headache coming just by looking at it) hanging on the hook next to an inner shirt and a pair of black pants.
The pair of black pants was well, a disaster as he huffed and puffed loudly while trying to get his calves past the tiny, tiny holes. “Seunghoon, are you sure this is the right size for me?!” he squeaked, feeling like his legs are going to rot off from the lack of blood and the muscles of his thighs and calves all bunched up under the tight fabric.
The movements of his legs were constricted to baby steps and he could barely walk without groaning, much less run; these are definitely not the clothes for combat. But it seems the people of Atelia aren’t too bothered by things like being prepared for combat in times of invasions and attacks because Seunghoon whooped in delight when he saw Seungyoon in the clothes he has chosen.
“I can’t believe you wear those atrocious pants that hide your great all day! Did you even get laid in your planet?” If Seungyoon wasn’t scandalized by Seunghoon’s choice of words, the slap on his and the lecherous wink the other sent him sure did the job.
The second order of business was thankfully a lot easier since bicycles was one of the few things Seungyoon learned to ride in Aurelius but…
“It’s pink. And it’s tiny.”
“It belonged to my mother; she was a tiny woman. Quit complaining. And don’t tell me that a great pirate should never be caught dead with a pink bicycle because a) no one here knows that you’re a sky pirate and b) would you rather walk the 40 km to town?”
Of all the people in Atelia whose backyard he could have fallen into, it had to be Lee Seunghoon’s, the one person he can never win against in a verbal fight.
“Don’t break it because I would personally break your bones if you do.”
Did anyone mention that Lee Seunghoon can be quite menacing when he wants to be, even with his cheery little grins?
All the stories told about Atelia in his world could never prepare Seungyoon adequately for the spectacle that is the very heart of the city in which he is entering right now. He has been to Isidora – the capital and the biggest city in Aurelius - a few times, delighted in the marvels and wonders of the open-air markets, walked in her web of alleyways and skirted around her soldiers and guards many a times but still, nothing in her bustling streets and the grandiosity of her buildings could ever compare to Eutropia, which according to Seunghoon, is less than a comparable fraction of the bigger cities of Atelia.
The streets are lined with buildings that just go higher and higher, without stopping, into the clouds and maybe this is why the planet isn’t a safe place for sky pirates and their ships. What’s even more incredible are the metal boxes zooming on the roads and yet sometimes they stop and people walk across the roads, without any sort of fear written on their faces, like it’s the most normal thing to do. The metal boxes stop and people walk, people stop and the metal boxes go; it’s a whole rhythm and system that Seungyoon has never seen before or even begun to imagine.
Colors whirl around him and even the street signs dazzle him with their whiteness and black block words. The grayness of smog and dreary poverty was everywhere, tainting even the most blissful of lives in Aurelius but here, the vibrancy of everything comes alive and the laughter, the conversations, the noise and honks from the metal boxes overwhelm his ears- no, they feed his need for adventure and the moment.
Everything is huge. Everything is so important. Every detail, every moment, every life clung to; he sees all this and feels it from the depths of his being. And it is all very wonderful, how he can feel so small in this big city and yet also feel like he’s finally free, free from poverty that dogged him even on the ship, free from the constant battles and free from the heartache he has unknowingly brought into this world.
Suddenly, he was grabbed by someone behind him and he topples from the bicycle in a grunting mess of long limbs onto the pavement just as one of the metal boxes hustles past him. Someone groans below him and he gets up, pulling Seunghoon along.
“Are you okay? God, I know the city is wonderful and everything but you always have to watch your surroundings in the city, okay? Those things-” An accusatory finger is pointed at the numerous metal boxes hurtling along the roads. “-they can go very fast and you can get hurt, or worse get killed by them. This is what I mean when I say there are worse ways to kill you and your sword won’t be able to save you. Kang Seungyoon, are you listening to me?”
A brilliant grin lights up Seungyoon’s face for he has grown accustomed to close shaves with death and this isn’t enough to shake his spirits. “Aye aye, captain!”
Seunghoon scoffs and lightly slaps the top of his head in fond chastisement. “You’re impossible.” He smiles along but Seungyoon can tell that though the concern and worry in his eyes lessen, they never really go away.
The main library of Eutropia stands between two tall buildings, a broad and grand building that would have given the great library of Alexandria a run for its money. It was built simply with nothing more than a pair of lion statues guarding the front steps but there is something that astounds Seungyoon as he stands gawking at the dignity of it while Seunghoon ties their bicycles to the posts.
“Never underestimate the power of knowledge?” A flippant comment and a casual shrug of shoulders are all Seungyoon has to contend with before he is ushered past the double doors by Seunghoon.
The doors were like magical entrances to a whole new world because the moment he steps through, he was hit by the aroma of old books and wood. Gold marble tiles stretch everywhere to the second and third level. Rows and rows of tables and chairs fill the atrium with countless shelves of books flanking them and enveloping everything are the dark wooden columns and beams. One or two elderly gentlemen sat reading the newspapers and the rest were young men and women hard at work on their books and papers. Academics, Seungyoon thinks and shudders at their poor lives dedicated and doomed to their books.
Where outside was bright and noisy, the library is protected by the walls and doors, keeping its silence and dark wooden furniture imposing and dignified in a way that will please the guardian spirits of the books.
Seunghoon marches through the atrium and Seungyoon struggles to keep up while keeping his eyes open to the splendor of everything around him. Mino would have loved to be here, look at the amount of books in all sorts of colors and sizes! He reads the headings on each shelf and tries to find anything that might have a remote connection to pirates but the words blur past him in his attempt to keep up with Seunghoon, whose long legs have already climbed the final steps to the third level.
When Seungyoon’s legs are firmly grounded in the carpet of the third level, he looks up to see “RESTRICTED ACCESS” stamped across the glass doors in red big bold letters and next to it, stands Seunghoon with a triumphant grin.
“Good thing that the only person you know in Atelia works in a library, isn’t it.”
Five books, that was how many Seungyoon managed to scour through before the words on the pages jumbled into a dull confusion and he dozed off, his head resting comfortably on the old book, rich with legends and stories of his home planet.
“It is said that the clouds of Aurelius are so dense that huge ships are able to maneuver above it – merchant ships carrying spices and silk so exotic that only royalties and nobles are able to afford them, pirate ships laden with stolen treasures of the ancient civilizations and navy ships sworn to rid the planet of the vices and sin that are the pirate ships. Among the many pirates that ravaged the stormy skies, captain of the Black Mage, Song Mino, remains one of the most fearsome pirates ever to be recorded in legends. Stories of his adventures with his crew passed from one generation to the next…”
Seunghoon was a lot more diligent and in the evening, over dinner, they would exchange information they had gathered in the morning and afternoon (more than half of the information were supplied by Seunghoon since Seungyoon, not surprising, usually ended up dozing off during the long and drowsy afternoons). But the books did not supply any sort of information regarding the passage from one planet to the other; all they had were different theories about the nature of the relationship between the two planets.
(“A whole load of good this tells us!” Seungyoon once complained after being cooped up in the library for several hours and his fingers randomly thumbing through a dozen or so books.)
After a week has gone by without much headway, hope of ever seeing his home begins to grow dim in the heart of Seungyoon but he keeps silent, pasting a façade of confidence whenever Seunghoon turns to him with eyes glazed with more optimism than he can ever muster at the moment.
It’s a funny thing, he thinks when he lies awake on his bed late at night with the song of the crickets chirping outside the windows accompanying his thoughts. It’s a funny thing because Mino’s father had once told him to choose his battles wisely and he always thought that every battle fought in the name of the Black Mage, every victory won for Mino will be worth it but now Seungyoon no longer knows whether this battle is still worth fighting for.
On this particular afternoon, sunlight streams through the windows in brilliant orange streaks across the floor and Seungyoon’s skin tingles with the need of contact with the warm glow of the sunrays. His lungs craves for the spring of fresh air and his heart yearns for the buzz of life beyond the dreary cubbyhole the library has seemed to carve out for him these past few days.
Seated on a bench just beside the flowers growing in their lovely little lots, he feeds the pigeons crowding around him with the leftover sandwich Seunghoon made for him in the morning. He remembers doing the same whenever he waits for Mino to come out of the bookshop in the city where the ship was docked and he laughs hollowly, the laugh rattling in the emptiness of his chest.
The noise and sounds of the city are still the same as when he first entered the city so many days ago but he thinks he’s no longer the same person. The city no longer fazes him and he has learned to read the system of the roads well enough to know that the green flashes of the light belt standing across the road means that it’s safe to walk, that the cars (Seunghoon taught him the name of the metal boxes) are obligated to stop.
Just yesterday, he made his first order at the café down the road without his guide by his side and managed to give the right amount of notes and coins to the cashier, after which his guide flashed him a proud thumb-up (which meant he did a good job, Seunghoon also taught him) through the glass window of the cafe.
That’s the good thing about the cities in Atelia; they are inclusive, accepting of the sky pirate who has stumbled into their world and Seungyoon feels like he has done quite a good job of adapting and settling into this strange new land. But within this exultant delight, lies also the raw and painful open wound of the guilt scarred in his heart. Does reveling in his new world also mean forgetting his home in the other planet and that the people he left behind in Aurelius no longer matter to him?
He’s afraid to find out, afraid that one morning he might wake up not being able to picture Mino’s face anymore, afraid that one day he will grow too used to the comforts of the life here and that unwillingness and fear will be all that he feels whenever he thinks about returning to the ship.
Most of all, he fears being a stranger to himself.
“Penny for your thoughts?”
“I have a lot of thoughts running through my head right now, you might have to pay more than a dollar.” Seungyoon smoothly replies, the hint of a small smile hanging on his lips.
“That’s a good one.” Seunghoon chuckles and the sound it makes, Seungyoon is starting to find it as lovely as Mino’s guffaws.
Silence perches between them on the bench as Seunghoon unwraps his own sandwich and peels bits of it off to feed the pigeons. He scatters the morsels all over the grass patches and it is then that the pigeons leave them alone with their unspoken words.
Seunghoon takes a deep breath before asking the unavoidable question, his hands bundled in the pockets of his jacket. “You’re not thinking of giving up, are you?”
“It’s hard not to when I don’t see any path leading me home.” Seungyoon quietly admits, his words coming out with a sigh that seems to finalize everything even when nothing has really been decided.
“I’m just thinking whether this also can be home to me.” He continues, his eyes resting on the weak sunlight shining through the wind vane of the church just across the street.
“My grandmother always used to tell my mother, and my mother always used to say to me,” Seunghoon straightens up and clears his throat before adopting a voice of motherly shrillness, complete with the exaggerated flourish of the hand. “The soufflé isn’t the soufflé, the soufflé is the recipe!”
That actually makes no sense to Seungyoon at all but the giggles escape him all the same. (It is times like this that he harbors an extra portion of thankfulness that it was Seunghoon who stumbled into him and no one else because really, who would go to such lengths to cheer a pathetic sad fool up?)
“I admit, I still have no idea what that means, even though my mother repeated it to me a hundred times. You probably don’t even know what a soufflé is.”
“I know what it is and I’ve tried it. A bloated and puffy crust hiding nothing but white sugarness that even a child with an extreme case of sweet tooth might find it nauseating; not worth the time to make it and definitely not worth the pennies one have to pay in Aurelius. But I didn’t have to pay because Mino and I, we dressed up as dignified nobles so that the snobby restaurant would let us in, ordered a huge feast including the soufflé, cleared everything off the plates, charged it to the Duke of Lexconly, whom we pretended to be our dear uncle and merried off before they realized that the duke had no siblings and was not married!”
Laughter bubbles from Seungyoon at the memory of the waiters yelling after them as they raced through the streets into the safety of the Black Mage. Tears stream from his eyes and his tummy hurts but it feels good because he hasn’t laughed this much ever since he left Aurelius.
And maybe Seunghoon understands because he sits there, not caring that a hysterical lunatic is doubled over on the bench next to him and he smiles fondly.
“We’re taking a day off and I’m going to introduce the city to you in the only way acceptable – through your stomach!” Seunghoon announced the minute he burst through the doors of the guest bedroom, his cheeky grins and sparkling eyes looking exactly like the child prince who escaped out of the palace for a day of fun in the markets and ended up as a stowaway on the ship.
As for Seungyoon, he was less than excited, already dozing off and falling back into dreamland under the warm layers of blankets and comforters he cocooned himself in.
But the Atelian was relentless (as like all his fellow citizens of Atelia, the pirate grumbled to himself) and that was how they had cycled to the little beach at the edge of Eutropia, spending a breezy morning in the presence of golden sunrays reflecting off the waves of the blue sea.
“I thought you would like to see where our pirates used to sail.” Seunghoon leans back comfortably in the hammock tied between two palm trees, wearing that silly pair of glasses that are tinted a dark tone of brown (which to Seungyoon, actually defeats the whole purpose of reading glasses. “They are not reading glasses! They are shades, named for the whole purpose of shading your eyes from the harmful sunrays.” Seunghoon protests and slaps a similar pair on Seungyoon’s face.)
“Life must be pretty dull for the pirates here without the ability to escape to the skies. Is that why piracy died off, from all the boredom?” Seungyoon taunts, the mockery barely veiled in his sly smile.
“Well for one thing, they didn’t fall off their ship into another planet." The smile Seunghoon shoots from the hammock is triumphant, smugness dripping from every inch of his thin lips.
It is truly a testament of Seungyoon’s self-restraint that he is able to stalk off before he ends up doing something drastic to wipe that terrible smirk off the other’s face.
In the spur of the moment (and against his initial fear), he heads towards the sandy shore and sits on a debris of wood brought on by the waves. If he is truly honest with himself, he does like the blue seas and the white sands here more than the grey smoggy clouds of his planet. In Aurelius, beaches were treacherous and cursed place to be in, filled with sharp rocks and seductive sirens, who draw charmed soliders and drown them so as to keep their souls forever.
He hopes that there are no such creatures here but he reckons there wouldn’t since kids run freely along the shore without a care in the world, kicking up sand and constructing elaborate figures from the sand. Must be blessed to be born here, not having to worry where or when the next meal will be and not having illnesses and death visiting their doors often. He’s one of the fortunate children but there are thousands, millions in Aurelius who never lived to see the dawn of their seventh birthday.
Padded footsteps can be heard behind him and he doesn’t even need to turn around to know that it’s Seunghoon but the other doesn’t come near, preferring to keep a distance between them, his voice sounding muffled and soft against the lazy breeze carrying his words away. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”
“I’m not mad. It’s a joke, I know that. We have jokes over there too, you know.”
Okay, maybe he is a little mad but it’s hard to pinpoint who or what he’s mad at exactly and it’s so much easier to put the blame on someone else than on a situation he can’t change or get out of.
“If you’re still mad at me, I brought my penance.” Seunghoon holds a paper boat containing a baguette or sort with dull red gravy softly oozing out of the center and despite his annoyance, Seungyoon receives it with care. “It’s a chili dog. There’s a hot dog in the folds of the bread, underneath the chili. The chili is one of the best in Eutropia and … I thought you might like it.”
Seunghoon does look sincerely apologetic with sad thoughtful eyes trained on him and if there’s one thing he learns from staying in Atelia for the past few weeks, it’s that he can never stay mad at Seunghoon for long.
The chili dog was good, way too good and irresistible, so much so that Seungyoon pretended that he was still slightly mad just so that Seunghoon can pay his penance with one more chili dog for the both of them to share.
“So underneath that great big pirate get-up, you’re just a child who never really grew up. Did no one bother to mention the huge appetite and the sly, manipulative side too when I took you in?”
Of course, Lee Seunghoon isn’t a fool. If he is, the universe wouldn’t have sent Seungyoon tumbling into his backyard.
(Well, a pirate can only hope that this is the universe’s way of being kind to him.)
“Shut up!” Seungyoon laughed, kicking the other’s bicycle in jest and so they began a childish race to the city with their laughter trailing behind them, just as the sun rose to the top of the sky in its golden chariot.
“Red seats and curvy tables set on top of floor tiles in different colors of the rainbows. Tell me, is this even legal?”
Seungyoon refuses to believe that a place capable enough of such atrocity can actually serve edible food, much less comfort food that “will sure to knock the patrons’ socks out”, as stated on the menu with obnoxious cursive words. (Again, what is with the Atelians’ fascination of knocking people out with food?)
“Whatever the diner lack in the design department, they sure do make up for it in the food department. I can assure you of that, cross my heart.” Seunghoon pulls the both of them down into the monstrosity that is the red seats, confidence ringing out loud in his sing-song voice.
“Now if the food isn’t good, I rather you take back your words and use your heart for a better purpose.” He smirks then, feeling quite proud that he’s getting better and faster with his comebacks but his amusement is not reciprocated for Seunghoon’s gaze on him is a mix of shame and sadness.
Something is wrong, Seungyoon has been feeling it for the past few days, especially when Seunghoon pulls away at the slightest physical contact between them, however fleeting and feather-light the touches are. He’s dying to find out what he has done wrong but whenever he asks or even hints at it, the other avoids the topic, drawing the conversation away with the usual cheeky grin and the naturalness of someone who is too used to masking his own feelings.
“What’s wro-”
The question drowns in the waves of glee radiating from Seunghoon when the food arrives – a confusing mix of meat, bread, sliced onions and tomatoes in a messy, oily pile with chunky and bloated blocks of potatoes at the side – and Seungyoon earnestly hopes that he will have enough time to find out what exactly is troubling his friend before it is too late.
They ended up staying later than expected in the diner and it certainly wasn’t because of the food, or the milkshakes (strange white swirling murkiness in a cup; definitely not the sort of beverage Seungyoon would dare to try but one slurp was all it took to have him addicted).
It was the jukebox, sitting unobtrusive in a quiet corner of the diner and Seungyoon would have went on not knowing the existence of the rectangular box, if it wasn’t for the young man who walked up and inserted a coin into it.
Loud sounds emits from the jukebox, bouncing off the walls and it feels like the whole place is throbbing with the regularity of the reverberations, like a heart echoing the rhythm of a song it used to beat along with loving familiarity. Even Seungyoon unconsciously taps his finger to the beats of the song playing in the diner, so unlike the kind of songs he used to sing on the ship with his banjo or ukulele and yet it tugs on his heartstrings in the way only music could do.
Surely magic is involved in this, how is it that so many different kinds of sounds are incorporated into the same song without sounding awful and discordant? The lovely chimes of the piano, the constant low thudding that seems to set the rhythm of the song and the flavorful voice of the singer; everything comes together in a harmony so vibrant and effervescent that people gather at the center of the diner, their bodies moving and flowing in perfect harmony to the music.
“It’s Jukebox Afternoon today; it’s a weekly thing where people are allowed to dance in here, from afternoon to the time it closes.” As Seunghoon explains, a soft fond smile appears on his face and the curl of his lips grows tender as his fingers clasp around Seungyoon’s wrist.
“Come on, let’s join them.”
Seungyoon wrinkles his nose in confusion for he has no idea what he is supposed to do. All he knows is that Seunghoon loves this place more than anything; that much is obvious from the affectionate fondness he sees in the other’s eyes. His skin flushes from the tight grasp on his wrist as he is led to the center and his heart warms at the fact that Seunghoon had chosen to share this special place with him.
You give every dream in me new life,
Like the sunshine breaks a perfect open sky
I never thought that through it all
I'd be the one to change
You showed me color when all I saw
Was black and white, I'm alive
Every doubt I held onto
Seems to melt away with you
So I'm holding on, yes I'm hanging on
Cause you’re all I want
Now I know you're the only one
“Dancing is easy. Just relax yourself, don’t think about anything, let the music soak your senses and your body will move freely to the beats.” Somehow, Seunghoon makes it sound like it is the easiest thing to do in the world and he demonstrates his instructions perfectly as his lean body sways gracefully while his long arms flow around him and his feet tap to the beats of the music.
Seungyoon let out a nervous laugh as he watches Seunghoon dances so naturally but his body stands stock-still, his arms frozen and rigid at his sides in his apprehension. People knock into him and they whirl away in their frenzy laughing delight, and it really does seem like the place is tilting too but suddenly, warm hands encircle his wrists and he stops spinning, anchored by Seunghoon’s smiling face and the closeness of their bodies.
“Like I said, just relax yourself and stop thinking too much! I thought pirates are good at having a good time huh?” There goes Seunghoon’s light mocking again but Seungyoon finds himself not bothering to come up with a witty retort as their arms raise and swing wildly together. The music is loud, drowning out everything including his hesitations and nervousness; his senses grow sensitive to the rhythm of the songs pounding on the floor and off the walls and soon, his body takes control, jumping along to the tempo with his arms swinging wildly in the air.
You’re just too good to be true
Can’t take my eyes off you
You’ll be like heaven to touch
I wanna hold you so much
At long last, love has arrived
And I thank God I’m alive
You’re just too good to be true
Can’t take my eyes off you
His heart expands with so much happiness and elation within him. Everything pours out in his exaggerated flailing of his arms and unadulterated laughter that is bounced off by Seunghoon’s own, and sometimes when they bump into each other, their hands naturally wrap around each other’s wrist, holding each other upright in their manic euphoria that threatens to render them breathless on the floor.
A loud clang ends the song, allowing Seungyoon a little breather, even though the air is thick with the heat of the bodies around him. Perspiration sheens his skin and his fringe sticks to his forehead but his body has never feel this alive than in this moment, in this diner, in another planet so very far from home, in the presence of someone whom he would have never met if it wasn’t for the strange and mysterious ways in which the universe operates.
The next song starts with a chorus of twangs and just as the raucous voice of the singer booms throughout the diner, Seunghoon jumps all over the place excitedly with his hands thrown up in the air as he yells, “This is my favorite song ever!”
And that’s a reason good enough for all caution and inhibitions to be thrown out of the window because Seunghoon comes up with all sort of possible (and some impossible, at least they were to Seungyoon) dance moves: twisting his body, wobbling his legs in a funny manner and wriggling his to the beats of the claps and twangs in the song.
Seunghoon’s wild delight in the song is infectious, bringing Seungyoon on a wave of heightened boldness as he tries to imitate the twists and wriggles of the other, even though he knows that a chimpanzee attempting a pirouette in a tutu is a sight less ridiculous than his disastrous attempts right now. Finally he is reduced to giggles and if not for the railings, he would have collapsed on the floor with the breath choked out of his lungs by the laughter that just wouldn’t stop bubbling out of him.
This thing called love
I just can't handle it
This thing called love
I must get round to it
I ain't ready
Crazy little thing called love
The heady rush of adrenaline gradually wanes and his heart slows to a languid thumping as he rests against the railings. Any more exertion of his muscles and joints, and he’s going to wake up with groaning aches all over his body tomorrow morning so he decides to leave the dancing to Seunghoon, who is still going at it with as much enthusiasm and -shaking as when he started.
Song after song, Seungyoon stands against the railings with a cup of milkshake in his hand (his third one today but no one has to know that) and a silly smile still stuck on his face, mesmerized by how Seunghoon’s body moves in the kaleidoscope of color lights shining down on him, like inky water flowing over the rocks or the velvety richness of silk caressing skin. And yet in his limbs, there is a certain tautness that surprisingly complements the litheness of his slender body, visibly expressing the strength and tenacity imbued in the way his body sways and shifts between light and shadow.
The beats of the noisy song (of all the songs played in the afternoon, this is the one song Seungyoon doesn’t fancy himself listening again) fades and the muffled thudding of the next song takes over the space. The tempo of the song is slow, charmingly indolent, and Seungyoon takes a moment to understand that the pairs forming in the dance area are actually courting couples, swaying to the perfect love song that is playing right now.
The dimmed lights in the diner cast a soft auburn glow on the faces of the couples, enveloping them in the radiance of their affections so bright that even though the nebulous darkness surrounds them, their eyes choose to behold only the iridescence of each other. Standing in the middle of them all is Seunghoon who wears an expression so lost and forlorn that the milkshake is immediately put away and Seungyoon covers the distance between them with quick long strides, a tiny piece of his heart breaking the closer he gets to the center.
Gazing at the old couple dancing cheek-to-cheek a few feet away from him with so much fondness that is both wretched and comforting at the same time, Seunghoon smiles when Seungyoon stands silently next to him; words are not needed when the warmth of a close friend is all that is needed to remind him that he’s not alone.
“Did you know that my parents were the ones who literally started Jukebox Afternoon?”
Tiny crescents lit up Seunghoon’s face, happiness radiating from him like a little boy when he speaks about his parents and his small soft hand in held in Seungyoon’s larger warm hand, who listens intently without interrupting.
“They first met here; she was the customer and he was the quiet nerdy manager who had the misfortune of getting soup spilled all over his shirt by her. The rest is history and they had their wedding party here, with loud music and lot’s of embarrassing and ridiculous dancing. This song… this was the last song they danced to that night. I know because I watched the video they recorded of the party.”
Seungyoon doesn’t understand how Seunghoon can watch and know something that happened before he was born but he has a hunch that it probably has to do with the black thin box in the living room, the same one he almost hacked into halves.
“When I was young, when Father was still here, they would bring me here every week, playing and dancing to all their favorite songs beside their table, not really caring that people were laughing at them. People began to look forward to our visits and they joined in; that’s how Jukebox Afternoon started to be a long-standing tradition here. They were the ones who gave me the love for this place and for dancing, they were the ones who nurtured my passion for dancing.”
No wonder Seunghoon was so good with his moves – he had the best audience anyone could have had and Seungyoon had to bite down on his cheeks to stop himself from giggling as he imagines a miniature version of the dancer wriggling and twisting his short pudgy body.
“Every week, Father will walk to the jukebox and play this song just so that they can have one last dance together, holding each other tightly as if they were the only ones in the world they have built, and I love watching them then the most, because even though I am the physical symbol of their love, it was only at that moment that their love for each other shone so brightly like a beacon of light that can be seen even from the farthest reaches of the universe. One last dance before we go home, they would tell me. And one afternoon, it was really their last dance together … because the next day, Father got into a car accident and he left us alone in the world, just Mother and me.”
The smile on Seungyoon’s face falters. He pretty much guessed that Seunghoon’s parents aren’t here anymore but it still tears a little at his heart to hear the words coming out of Seunghoon’s mouth, to see the lips curl into a wilted smile through the grief that still remains raw and unshakable, like a wound that refuses to heal.
And Seungyoon, despite all that he has learned on the Black Mage, is stricken by how much his own heart can hurt for someone else’s pain.
“It has been such a long time since I last heard this song but now, I look at that couple there and I wish my parents could be like them, growing old together and dancing to this song fifty, sixty years later, still so irrevocably in love with each other as when they danced to this same song on their wedding night.”
It wasn’t tenacity imbued in the way Seunghoon moved his body, Seungyoon now understands, it was desperation, a quiet wildness that wants to forget and yet remember. He also understands that despite the tall height, Seunghoon is just a boy who loves and misses his parents so much and his heart hammers painfully as his arms stretches to pull the other closer.
Being the typical pirate, he was never big on hugging but he throws his arms around Seunghoon and squeezes so tightly – in spite of the other’s soft protests – that he could feel his own breath crushing out of his lungs, wisps of air that leave comforting heated breaths on the other’s neck. Seunghoon’s arms hesitatingly encircle him but they cling to his shoulders as he feels tears seeping into his shirt and they stay like this till the end of the song.
Cause you give me something
That makes me scared, alright,
This could be nothing
But I'm willing to give it a try,
Please give me something
'Cause someday I might know my heart.
(“You should work on your moves though. You were pretty embarrassing.”
“Shut up, I was not.”)
If all things go well, part 2 will be up in a week. (I hope.)
Comments will be nice!
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